Strangled Silence Read Online Free

him
out, let him calm down a bit, make her excuses and
leave as inoffensively as possible.
    'I was rich, see?' Ivor said, opening his hands
towards her. 'There are thousands of hacked-off
soldiers with paranoid gripes against the army, but
the world doesn't listen to them because they're
nobodies. But suddenly I'm a millionaire, and if I
want, I can start using all that money to shove a
great big thorn up the army's backside. They're not
ignoring me now because all of a sudden I'm rich
enough to cause them real problems.'
    'So why haven't you done it?' Amina asked.
'You haven't done anything with the money. You
told Goldbloom you've hardly spent a penny!'
    'I've been afraid of what they'll do,' Ivor said in
a hushed voice. 'I mean . . . I don't even know what
they've done to me already . I know they're watching
every move I make and I don't know how
they're interpreting what I do. I think they might
hurt me . . . or . . . or they might mess with my
mind again. I didn't want to do anything that might
make them . . . angry with me.
    'I could go out and buy . . . y'know, the wrong
thing, and they read into it and decide I'm a threat
to whatever they're doing and the next thing I
know I'm being pulled into the back of a van.
I can't spend the money because I'm afraid of what
they'll do.'
    'But if you're scared that they'll come for you
if you make trouble . . .' Amina asked slowly, a
quizzical expression on her face, 'why did you ring
Goldbloom and tell him you wanted to tell your
story?'
    'Because I'm sick of waiting for it,' he sighed.
'Whatever's going to happen, I just want it to be
over.'

15

    Ivor watched from the window as Amina walked
away down the street. He knew she was sceptical,
but she'd still listened to everything he'd had to say.
The sense of dread that he'd been feeling for the last
week had lifted slightly. It was like confession, he
supposed. It was all out in the open now; whatever
they wanted to do to him, at least he'd had his say.
    But he was already getting that queasy churning
in his stomach. Maybe he should call her and
tell her he'd changed his mind. She had left him her
office number. He could say it was all in his head –
he was just confused. He could say he was on
medication that was affecting his judgement.
    It was too late. What was done was done. Ivor
kept his gaze on her as she made her way towards
the turn for the Underground station. She was a
beautiful girl, and it had been a long time since he'd
spent time with any girl, gorgeous or otherwise.
What age was she – seventeen? Eighteen? He
looked away. Even at twenty-three, he felt like a
burned-out old man. His hand went up to his glass
eye, touching it tentatively. An ugly, disfigured old
man.
    He looked back at her tiny figure as it headed
for the end of the street. Somebody stepped out of
an alley and walked after her. Ivor uttered a curse
and reached for the binoculars that hung from a
hook behind the curtains. A close look at the man
told him nothing. He could just be going the same
direction as Amina. There was no way to tell. She
disappeared round the corner and the man followed
a few seconds later. Ivor released his pent-up breath
and turned away from the window. He had said
what needed saying. There was nothing to do now
but wait and see if there was a price to be paid.
    Amina's mind was racing as she strode away from
Ivor's block of flats. He was seriously delusional;
there was no doubt about that. Her father was a
senior officer and she knew the military didn't
always do their best to look after their people, but
she didn't believe for a second that the top brass
deliberately screwed with their troops' heads. Over
the years, her father had taken their family with
him as he was posted to one military base after
another, and she had met a number of soldiers
suffering from post-traumatic stress; she knew what
it could do.
    Men and women returning from conflict zones
were often traumatized by what they had seen and
done there. She had